


Guess God thinks I'm Abel

by bivlaro



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:32:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bivlaro/pseuds/bivlaro
Summary: "Noel has always been ‘the one who writes', a few times I had been involved in this business, because, probably, I'm not capable of it. Yet at that moment I felt it was the only thing possible, the only way to keep me from thinking and the only way to clear my mind from those weights that made it unbearable to manage."A songfic inspired by "Guess God thinks I'm Abel" (Liam Gallagher)





	Guess God thinks I'm Abel

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm italian and this is my first fic written in English. If you see any mistakes please be kind and let me know. At least I tried.

I realize that I smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in less than an hour when, trying instinctively to breathe, I see that there’s no more oxygen in the room but only grey smoke, almost black. I get up from the bed, loath, this vital instinct broke my silence and the gears of my mind. I open the window and I lay on the bed, again, forgetting for a moment the reason of my confinement in that hotel room. I close my eyes. Noel.  
Obviously, he’s always the cause of all my illness, of all my joy and all my pain, both physical and mental. For years now, closing my eyes, I only see that square face, those big blue eyes, and those traits that are so close to mine,  _too_ close to mine. I'm tightening my eyes now, so much to see small colourful geometric shapes dancing in the dark. It could almost look like a metaphor of my mind; so many little ideas, so many little joys, dancing living and dying in the dark of my soul.

I'm afraid now, to open my eyes. It would be like admit it, admit what I've been suppressing for years. Opening my eyes would be like accepting the reality I tried to avoid for too long. The eyes begin to burn and I open them, eventually, overwhelmed. I look at the ceiling above me; it’s white, clean, chaste, like a little paradise. And I wonder, lying down, as I puff the last cigarette’s smoke, if there’s room in paradise for us as well.

Noel has always been ‘the one who writes', a few times I had been involved in this business, because, probably, I'm not capable of it. Yet at that moment I felt it was the only thing possible, the only way to keep me from thinking and the only way to clear my mind from those weights that made it unbearable to manage.

_ I could be your lover _

_ You could be all mine _

And the thought of what has been overwhelmed me, filling with feelings the first two simple verses. Memories of what has gone but still exists, memories of the most beautiful moments of my life thanks to whom, luckily or not, is the one who shares my own blood.

_ We'd go on forever _

_ 'Till the end of time _

It makes me more confident to imagine a world, or a version of this world where we both are happy about what we achieved and what we have, and thinking of us two, forever, till the end, because we are bound not only by the invisible ribbon that will always accompany us, but also by our feelings, makes me vulnerable as I have never shown to be.

_ You could be my best friend _

_ Stay up all night long _

I never thought about how lucky I am. He is my brother, my best friend, my shoulder, the person I shared most things in the world with. And they're just memories the nights spent together in the dark of our bedroom, with some weed lit up laughing at our crap all night long, trying not to be caught by our mother. Nights that have intensified over the years, deleting the smoke and adding something stronger, more emotional, something that perhaps has ruined us eventually.

_ You could be my railroad  _

_ We'd go on and on _

He has been my getaway for years, my railroad that welcomes the train, no matter at what speed, without hesitation, simply moving when it needs to change route. It was so easy to abandon myself to that sense of protection, when externally you try to look like someone you’re not and just one person, just one, knows who you really are. So for months, years, between high and low, if they had asked me to have a constant in my life, I would have chosen him.

_ Let's get along, theres nothin here to do _

_ Let's go find a rainbow _

_ I could be wrong but what am i to do _

_ Guess God thinks I'm Abel _

I've always seen us as Cain and Abel, two brothers who hate each other, perhaps, that are going to end up killing themselves. We are so  _unique_ that we can be nothing but characters, chunks of something far bigger than us, God or anyone else. And we will never have that piece of paradise, because of what we have done, who we are and who we love. But we were never interested in that. And if we had just kept looking for our rainbow, our place, where there were just me and him, no one else, just us and the silence, maybe I wouldn’t have written all of this. I guess God thinks I'm Abel, he thinks that if I keep coming back to him, Cain would kill me. And maybe he is right. But then, as a result, he would kill himself.


End file.
